Echidna turned to Anastasia with a sly grin. "I'll need the knights to retrieve something for me."
Anastasia leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the armrest. "What exactly?"
"Two things." Echidna raised two fingers. "First, the body of the first swordsman. Second, a small, empty black box hidden in one of the Sage's rooms within the Sage Tower." Her smirk widened. "I never had access to it before, but since Subaru managed to open it, I can finally get my hands on them."
Anastasia's eyes flickered with curiosity, but she didn't ask questions. "I'll send Julius with a few knights. If there's more than one of those boxes, how many do you need?"
"Three would be ideal." Echidna waved a hand dismissively. "But even one is enough."
Anastasia nodded. "Fine. Anything else?"
"Yes." Echidna's eyes gleamed. "I need the body of the divine dragon Aldebaran used. It's hidden somewhere in the kingdom, isn't it?"
Anastasia smirked, realizing where this was going. "You plan to reanimate it."
Echidna chuckled. "What better way to boost morale than displaying a divine dragon under our command?"
...
the Empire managed to push back the army led by Marcos to the border, but it was a struggle. Marcos put up a fierce fight against one of the Divine Generals, Madelyn, and her dragon. He nearly bested her, but reinforcements arrived—an army led by another Divine General, Goz.
Even with the additional enemy forces, Marcos held his ground, matching them blow for blow. However, when yet another Imperial army joined the battle, the pressure became overwhelming. Realizing he could not risk his entire force in a losing battle, Marcos ordered a strategic retreat to the border.
There, the Divine Generals would not dare to follow, as it was too close to enemy territory where the Sword Saint, Reinhard, could intercept them. Goz, understanding the risk, ordered Madelyn to fall back before she could be caught by Reinhard's overwhelming power.
The Empire had severely underestimated Reinhard once before, and they paid the price in absolute devastation. They had expected him to hold back, but instead, he fought with the intent to kill everyone in his path. As a result, their initial offensive was a catastrophe.
Cecilius, one of the strongest Imperial warriors, had stationed himself at the border, constantly provoking Reinhard to cross it. Earlier in the war, they had fought, and Reinhard had nearly killed him. Now, Cecilius remained on the defensive, trying to bait the Sword Saint into overextending.
The Empire's initial plan was to win the war in a single decisive strike, led by their best general. The strategy was meant to overwhelm the Kingdom of Lugunica with a perfectly coordinated assault. However, they had underestimated Reinhard's sheer power, and the resulting casualties were catastrophic.
The only reason the Empire's forces had managed to retreat was due to Natsuki Subaru, who took command at a critical moment and prevented a total collapse. But despite his efforts, the Empire had suffered massive losses. Now, they were down to only six armies, and their forces were starting to dwindle.
f the Empire tried, they could gather more forces, but logistics and the difficulty of moving troops from the Kararagi border proved to be the deciding factor. The Empire expected to collect two more giant armies, bringing their total to eight, while Lugunica had only four.
Felix's army was built mostly from mages and knights, with a few capable ground dragon raiders to support mobility and flanking maneuvers. Marcos' army was composed of elite knights—the best of the best—as well as a strong force of mages to support them in battle. Henkel's army consisted of well-trained soldiers and mages, tasked with holding the border and ensuring no enemy crossed into Lugunica unchallenged.
Rom's army, however, was something entirely different. It was built by Felt, but its soldiers were not natural warriors. Anastasia had promised demi-humans unprecedented rights—land of their own and a place within the new empire under Felt's rule, should they remain loyal to her. To many demi-humans who had faced centuries of discrimination, this was an opportunity too great to ignore. Rom knew this, and it didn't take long before another army was formed entirely of demi-humans, eager to fight for their future and a land they could call their own.
Rom despised Anastasia, but he understood the reality of the situation. She held Felt hostage, and many of the demi-humans were willing to fight not because of her coercion but because of the chance she offered them.
here was also one army—Anastasia's own mercenary force,
Of course, one army remained stationed in the capital. Julius was its commander, though he had strongly desired to join the front lines. However, Anastasia forbade it, much to his frustration. She knew that Subaru's revenge would require him to cross the border first, and she wasn't about to let him slip past their defenses. Julius was one of the strongest knights in Lugunica, and his presence in the capital was a crucial deterrent. If an attack came, he would be there to crush it before it could reach her.
Keeping Julius in the capital was not just about defense—it was also a political move. His leadership maintained order among the nobility and ensured the loyalty of the remaining knights who had stayed behind. Even if she had control over the kingdom, Anastasia knew she needed strong figures by her side to reinforce her rule. Having Julius visible in the capital gave the people confidence in her reign. The city needed to remain stable, both for military reasons and for morale.
Julius was its commander, though he had wanted to go to the front lines. However, Anastasia forbade it. She knew that if Subaru wanted revenge, he would have to cross the border first. Keeping Julius in the capital was a strategic decision.
Despite the empire's aggression, Anastasia remained confident. The war had only just begun, and she still had time to build additional armies. If necessary, she would raise more forces to match the empire's numbers. She even hoped that new forces would naturally form once people witnessed the power of the divine dragon. The sight of such a legendary creature, brought back to life under her command, would serve as a rallying symbol. If the people saw a sign of divine favor, they would follow her without hesitation.
Moreover, the war had turned into an opportunity. She knew that if the conflict dragged on, more mercenaries would flock to her banner, seeking fortune in battle. War had a way of creating its own economy—displaced soldiers, opportunists, and those seeking revenge would naturally gather. With her growing influence and wealth, she could afford to hire them. She was certain she could form a second army of mercenaries if she played her cards right.
In the end, it was all about strategy. She didn't need to rush things. Let the empire think they had the upper hand. Let them believe they could overwhelm her forces. The longer the war went on, the more she could prepare, the more she could manipulate events in her favor. And when the time was right, she would make sure that the empire paid the price for underestimating her.
Anastasia never underestimated the empire. She knew exactly what she was up against. One of the enemy armies was commanded by Goz Ralfon, a seasoned leader with a force of well-trained soldiers and knights. Another was led by Madelyn Eschart, whose army was primarily composed of dragons—a terrifying force that few could stand against in open combat. Kafma Irulux commanded a force made up mostly of common soldiers, disciplined and organized, while Jamal Aurélie led another army of similar composition, built for large-scale engagements.
The remnants of Yorna and Arakiya's armies had merged into one, replenishing their numbers after the brutal battles they had endured. This allowed them to stay in the fight rather than disbanding entirely. While these forces were a concern, the real problem was the three unknown armies. Anastasia had little information on them—two were stationed near the Kararagi border, and the third remained a mystery.
At first, she believed the empire was simply securing its flanks, keeping forces in reserve to counter any surprises. However, the longer they remained in place, the more it felt like they were waiting for something. Kararagi had been treating them as a potential threat, using their presence as a reason to stay alert. But in reality, Anastasia had already struck a secret deal with Kararagi. The moment those armies left their position, Kararagi would invade. It was a carefully planned trap, designed to ensure that the empire would lose ground the moment they made a move.
And yet... they hadn't moved. It was as if the empire knew. It was as if they suspected an attack. They weren't falling for the bait, and that alone made Anastasia uneasy. If the empire was aware of her deal with Kararagi, it could mean they had informants within her ranks. Or worse—they had a counterplan of their own.
Kararagi's position in the war was delicate. They had a long history of trade with the empire, but relations had never been entirely smooth. When the empire declared war, Kararagi had two options: side with Lugunica or with the empire. If they sided with the empire, they would have to face the power of the legendary Sword Saint, Reinhard. On the other hand, if they sided with Lugunica, they would likely secure victory, but the balance of power in the world would be drastically altered.
Unlike other nations, Kararagi could not afford a full-scale war. Their strength came from diplomacy, trade, and treaties rather than military might. The empire, despite suffering losses, still had the largest army, meaning they could sustain prolonged conflicts. For Kararagi, the ideal outcome was neither Lugunica nor the empire winning decisively, but instead, both nations exhausting each other. That way, Kararagi could emerge as the strongest nation, able to afford a massive army of mercenaries from the aftermath of the three-way conflict.
To achieve this, Kararagi played a careful game. They struck a secret deal with Anastasia: if the empire started losing, they would betray them and join Lugunica. However, their real goal was to let both sides weaken each other before making their move. They hoped for a prolonged, bloody war—one that would leave both nations too drained to oppose Kararagi's rise.
To ensure this, they subtly worked against a quick resolution. The biggest threat to a prolonged war was Reinhard, whose overwhelming power could end the conflict in a single decisive battle. To counter this, they made sure Halibelt remained in play. By keeping Halibelt engaged with Reinhard, they ensured that the Sword Saint wouldn't be able to wipe out the empire's forces too quickly.
Kararagi was waiting. Watching. Preparing. Their strategy wasn't to win the war outright but to shape its aftermath. And if everything went according to plan, by the time the dust settled, Kararagi would be the true victor—without ever needing to fight on the front lines.
\Kararagi carefully watched the empire's movements, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Their strategy relied on the empire deploying its armies against Lugunica. Once those forces were engaged, Kararagi's own troops would encounter little to no resistance in their attack. However, as long as three imperial armies remained stationed at their border, they couldn't act.
What secured Kararagi's position was their role in preventing Reinhard from directly attacking the empire. By ensuring he stayed out of the fight, they effectively bought time for the empire and maintained their leverage. This was the card they played when negotiating with the empire: as long as Kararagi remained neutral, they would stop Reinhard from crossing the border. But if he ever stepped into imperial territory, Kararagi would honor their supposed "deal" and declare war on Lugunica.
Kararagi presented itself as a mediator, a so-called peacekeeper. Yet, no one truly trusted them. The empire kept a watchful eye on their forces, expecting betrayal at any moment. Lugunica, on the other hand, refrained from using Reinhard too aggressively, knowing that doing so would risk turning Kararagi against them. Both sides were locked in a tense balance, wary of the moment the other would make the first move.
If Kararagi was going to act, they needed to time it perfectly. And as the war dragged on, their patience.
The only country untouched by the war was Gusteko. They watched from a distance, carefully observing the unfolding conflict. Officially, they had signed a treaty with the empire, agreeing to join the war against Lugunica if Reinhard crossed the border. However, they had no real desire to follow through on that promise.
From the very beginning, the empire had underestimated the scale of the conflict. Their opening strike had been met with devastating losses at the hands of Reinhard, proving just how one-sided any direct confrontation with him would be. Even though the empire managed to push into Lugunica's territory and destroy several cities, they could never truly gain the upper hand. They could advance, they could burn and conquer, but in the end, they couldn't win.
The reason was simple: Reinhard.
While the empire could spread destruction across multiple fronts, Reinhard's presence meant that any single battle he engaged in was an assured Lugunican victory. The empire could try to outmaneuver him, forcing him to chase different threats, but the moment he reached the battlefield, their forces would be annihilated. Lugunica only needed to endure until Reinhard could resolve one crisis before moving on to the next.
Gusteko, understanding this, hesitated. While they had agreed to attack Lugunica if Reinhard crossed the border, they realized that such a move would only accelerate the empire's destruction. If Kararagi remained neutral, Lugunica would have no reason to hold back. Reinhard would be unleashed, and the empire would be completely wiped out.
For now, Gusteko remained on the sidelines, waiting. The war was still unfolding, and they were not yet ready to risk becoming the next target.
The war raged on as Lugunica's forces were steadily pushed back. Despite their resilience, the empire's relentless assault kept them on the defensive. The only coordinated advance Lugunica managed was a desperate attempt to recover the fallen bodies of Markus's soldiers. Their goal was simple—deliver them to Felix so they could be revived. However, their plan was anticipated, and they were ambushed by all the Divine Generals.
Felix, Markus, and Roswaal found themselves against Cecilus, Arakiya, Yorna, Madelyn, and Goz. The coordination of their enemies was near perfect, and the battle quickly turned against them. The empire's forces overwhelmed them, and Felix was finally captured.
Just as victory seemed assured, the battlefield shifted.
A mighty roar echoed across the war-torn plains as the Divine Dragon Volcanica revealed himself. His enormous form darkened the sky, and with a mere breath, he summoned a torrent of meteoric rain upon the battlefield. The ground trembled beneath his power.
Cecilus, always eager for battle, leaped toward the dragon, ready to strike. Yet, in the middle of his jump, something stopped him. His katanas, swift as lightning, were suddenly halted mid-swing, the force of the clash driving him back into the earth. A crater formed beneath him from the sheer impact. As he recovered, he looked up, and what he saw froze him in place.
A man with red hair, holding a katana.
Cecilus did not need to ask who he was. He already knew.
Reid Astrea, the First Sword Saint.
Yorna, with her keen senses, quickly realized the terrifying truth—both Volcanica and Reid were reanimated corpses. Yet even if they were no longer alive in the truest sense, they still possessed monstrous power. The battlefield had just turned into an absolute nightmare.
Yorna shouted to Arakiya, her voice urgent and commanding. "Focus! Kill that bastard Felix before he revives the entire Lugunican army!"
Elsewhere, Markus was locked in a brutal duel against Goz and Kafma, while the Shudrak warriors rained arrows upon Volcanica, desperately trying to weaken the dragon.
Madelyn, recognizing the threat Volcanica posed, sent all of her dragons to engage him, hoping to buy time. Meanwhile, she herself attempted to hold back Roswaal.
And then, just as things seemed dire for Lugunica's forces, a new warrior arrived on the battlefield.
A blond-haired boy—his presence radiating raw power.
With a single, decisive strike, he brought Roswaal crashing to the ground.
Garfiel bared his fangs, locking eyes with Roswaal. No words were exchanged—none were needed. The betrayal, the fury, the raw emotion between them spoke louder than any insult ever could. Their reunion was brief, for the battlefield did not allow time for grudges. The devastation surrounding them was beyond comprehension, beyond what any ordinary knight or soldier could withstand.
This was not a war between men. It was a battlefield of monsters.
Cecilus and Reid's swords clashed, their strikes cleaving the ground in half. The very earth trembled beneath them, creating deep chasms that swallowed soldiers whole. Those who were too close found themselves tumbling into the abyss, screaming as they fell.
From above, meteors rained down like divine punishment. The impact burned through bodies, piercing through armor, melting flesh in an instant. Yet death did not come for everyone.
On one side, Felix desperately healed his allies, keeping them alive even as they were torn apart. On the other, the Empire's cursed magic distributed the pain across its soldiers. Those who should have died remained standing, their bodies breaking apart yet refusing to fall. Their skin blackened, their veins burst, their blood boiled—yet they could not die. Instead, they suffered endlessly, the agony spreading like a plague among their ranks.
Above them all, Volcanica roared, his mighty wings sending shockwaves across the battlefield. He tore through the sky, his claws ripping through dragons as if they were paper. Those who dared oppose him were crushed, their bodies obliterated beneath his sheer power.
Felix stood at the heart of the chaos, his body surrounded, his every move met with an onslaught of attacks. Blood painted the battlefield, yet he refused to fall. His very flesh regenerated, piecing itself back together from the raw essence of blood itself.
The soldiers of Lugunica, seeing their last hope in Felix, fought with everything they had. Desperation turned to rage, and they charged, hacking away at the soldiers of the Empire who sought to end their healer.
They had no choice.
If Felix fell, then so did all of Lugunica.
Echidna was having the time of her life. Watching the battlefield unfold from the safety of Lugunica's capital, she marveled at the spectacle before her. Thanks to her magic, she could witness every gruesome detail as if she were there herself.
She had expected more from Subaru. Surely, he had a plan. There had to be more to this. Subaru never walked blindly into disaster unless he had a reason. That meant only two possibilities: either his forces were truly going to succeed and turn the tide, or at the very least, they would succeed in killing Felix.
A sly smile crept onto Echidna's lips. If she wanted to see which scenario would play out, she merely needed to push things in the right direction. And the best way to do that? Forcing Lugunica's army into a retreat.
She activated her magic, her voice carrying through the battlefield with the authority of the Divine Dragon. Controlling the dragon's corpse, she commanded it to snatch Felix into its massive claws. Then, with an earth-shaking roar, the dragon turned and led Lugunica's forces into a full retreat.
The Empire's forces did not pursue.
Both sides stood among the sea of corpses, their blood mingling into a crimson swamp. The battlefield was silent save for the groans of the wounded and the crackling embers of scorched earth.
They had survived.
But only just.
Every Divine General remained standing, though each bore deep wounds. Had the battle continued, their defeat would have been certain.
Madelyn knelt among the remains of her dragons, her body trembling with grief. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched at the lifeless forms of her kin. She wailed in anguish, her voice raw and broken. "They were my family! My only family!" She turned on Yorna, her face twisted in fury. "This is Subaru's fault! We did everything according to plan! Where were our reinforcements?! Where was the backup?!"
Goz, barely able to stand, collapsed beside her with a heavy sigh. "Subaru's plan would've worked. It was nearly perfect... if not for the Divine Dragon and the First Sword Saint showing up."
Arakiya arrived moments later, her body covered in burns and cuts. She scanned the battlefield before asking, "Where the hell is that bastard Cecilus? Wasn't he supposed to finish off Felix?"
At that moment, Cecilus appeared. His clothes were tattered, one arm missing, the other hanging limp at his side, but his grin was as wide as ever.
"That... was incredible," he exhaled, his eyes shining with exhilaration. "I fought against a god of the sword... and I held my ground."
No one responded. They didn't need to. If even Cecilus had suffered this much, then it was clear—none of them would have stood a chance.
Which meant Lugunica's retreat wasn't a coincidence. Something else had forced them back.
Yorna exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Right now, we need to find a working communication mirror. We have to report this victory."
Silence. No one volunteered.
After a long pause, all eyes turned to Cecilus.
He blinked. "Huh? Me? Why me?"
"Because," Arakiya muttered, rubbing her face in exhaustion, "Subaru is your boss."
The grin finally faded from Cecilus's face. "...Shit."